An Explosive Situation
by avrovulcan
Summary: What does an elegant charity ball in New York and a building in Sardis, Turkey have in common? Napoleon and Illya find out. Written in response to Glennagirl's 'Create A Story' Poll on LJ.


A hush fell across the ballroom as the elegant couple entered through the ornate doorway into the grand room filled with VIP's.

Every eye turned towards the handsome tall dark American and the beautiful red headed woman he was escorting. She looked stunning in a silk sea foam blue dress, her hair cascading down her shoulders in waves, the women in the room immediately held onto their partners and husbands as she walked past; he was the envy of every man in the room, as he actually looked great in a black tuxedo with satin lapels and a bow tie that was obviously the real thing and not a clip on.

The gathering was in aid of a charity event; Orphans In Turkey had invited big business owners and people of importance from all across America to raise money for the abandoned children of Turkey. Donations of paintings, sculptures, priceless tickets to concerts and operas, and other things that, ordinarily money couldn't buy, were to be auctioned off to raise money for the charity.

A blond waiter made his way through the room with a tray full of champagne, his obscure route would eventually take him to the couple who'd made such a grand entrance.

"I feel so nervous, Napoleon," Marianne Lawson whispered.

"Don't be, you're doing fine. Just stay close to me or Illya and you'll be perfectly safe. Ah, speak of the devil."

"Hello Marianne," Illya smiled as he handed her a glass of champagne, "You look stunning."

"Thank you, I feel a bit… I don't know… out of place I guess. I've never been to anything like this before."

"Do not worry, just follow Napoleon's lead and you will do just fine."

"Have you seen Henri De La Fonte yet Illya?" Solo inquired.

"No, though I have not been able to check out the far side of the room yet," the Russian indicated the tray he was carrying, "it is surprising how quickly the champagne disappears. I have to go, I will check in with you later."

"Okay tovarisch," Napoleon smiled, "oh, and Illya…. try not to get into trouble."

Kuryakin snorted, "me? I usually have to get _**you**_ out of it."

Quickly, the Russian disappeared into the crowd, avoiding any comeback Solo was about to make.

"I still can't believe Henri has anything to do with this," Marianne sighed.

UNCLE had asked Miss Lawson to help them with this assignment. Though they didn't like to involve innocents, Marianne knew Henri De La Fonte quite well; her brother used to work for him in his big publishing company until he sold it. He was the founder of the charity and a known member of THRUSH, UNCLE believed Orphans In Turkey was a front for smuggling weapons and drugs into and out of the country.

Every year they had a big ball to raise money, most of the guests were members of THRUSH, though a few were innocents like Marianne Lawson. UNCLE had needed her to accept the pair of tickets Henri had offered in order to allow them to get another agent in. Kuryakin was easy to get in as a waiter, he'd pretended to be the brother of one who had suddenly fallen ill and was there to cover for him; but it would have been harder to get them both in as serving staff, plus Napoleon could go to places where Illya couldn't and vice versa.

They needed to find out where the money being raised that night, was heading for and when and, if possible, to capture and eliminate these THRUSH birds and their nest.

That was the plan, but sometimes things don't always go how they should.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TING, TING, TING, TING.

Silence followed the sound of a knife hitting the side of a wine glass sitting on a table at the back of the room. Everyone turned to see Henri De La Fonte as he stood beside the auctioneer.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for attending this grand ball and auction in aid of Orphans In Turkey. All money raised from tonight will go towards supporting, educating and helping these poor children in need. We have some very good donations and one or two quite unexpected late additions. So I do hope you will all give generously to a very worthy cause."

Henri stepped aside amidst rounds of applause as the auctioneer prepared to start the evening.

"Good evening everyone. I would like to start with this lovely painting donated by Sir Frances Morely. Do I hear one hundred?"

"Eighty," a bald headed man shouted.

"I'll go a hundred," a bespectacled gentleman added.

The painting of a thatched country cottage with a garden full of brightly coloured blooms, eventually sold for six hundred and seventy pounds.

"Thank you Mr. Bradbury. Next we have a bronze sculpture of a rearing horse, kindly donated by Lady Patricia Bently. Where shall we start?"

"One twenty," shouted a tall man with greying hair.

"One forty," said a woman in a red sequined dress.

As the auction continued, the host wandered around the room speaking to people here and there before finally stopping by Solo and Miss Lawson.

"Hello Marianne, so glad you came," Mr. De La Fonte said as he took her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you for inviting me, this is Napoleon Solo, a friend of mine."

"Ah, Mr. Solo, I hope you are looking after this lovely lady."

"To the best of my abilities, I can assure you," Napoleon smiled.

Their conversation was interrupted by a round of applause.

"A good result, four hundred for that bronze. Oh, yes this next item is a surprise addition, one I think you may be interested in Mr. Solo," Henri said as he placed a hand on the Americans arm.

Napoleon just had enough time to see one disheveled blond Russian, bound, gagged and obviously drugged, brought to the auction table, _'typical, and after I told him to keep out of trouble,'_ he thought.

"Now what do I have for one slightly worn UNCLE agent?" The auctioneer asked.

Solo's world went black as the drugged needle concealed within Mr. De La Fonte's ring, pierced the agents skin.

Napoleon woke to the sound of groaning which got steadily louder. He was about to ask whoever it was to quieten down as his head was already thumping when he realized it was himself.

Opening his eyes, he looked around and saw he was in a cell with Illya and Marianne. His partner was awake and comforting Miss Lawson.

"How are you feeling Napoleon?" The Russian asked.

"A bit like how you look I think. Are you okay tovarisch?"

"I will live."

"What about you Marianne? Did they hurt you?" The American asked.

"No, they just drugged me the same way they did you. I woke up just a bit before you did."

"Any idea where we are?"

"I overheard someone say something about Sardis."

"SARDIS? That's in Turkey isn't it?" Napoleon exclaimed, "we must have been out for some time to have traveled that far."

"If that is, in fact, where we are. I think it is time we found out for sure."

"I can attract the guard if that will help," Marianne suggested.

"Yes, then one of us can disable him," Illya finished.

Miss Lawson stood by the door and made sure the long skirt of her dress was arranged so that a substantial section of thigh was showing, she also made sure her bodice showed just enough cleavage to capture the guards attention.

"Guard? Guard, please I don't feel too well. I need something to drink."

"Be quiet," was the response.

"Please I really feel unwell, I need some water, surely that isn't asking too much?"

"I said shut up."

"It can't hurt Richard, it's only a cup of water," another voice in the corridor outside their cell added.

"Tony, we were told not to give them anything."

"How could it hurt? I can take it in, you can cover me."

"Please, I really need some water." Marianne called.

"Alright, alright. We'll get you some." Richard turned to his colleague, "If anything happens, it's all your fault, just remember that."

"It'll be okay, have you seen them? They're not in any state to try anything."

They were the last words spoken by either THRUSH. As the door was unlocked, Tony's attention was indeed captivated by Marianne's 'assets' as she lay on the floor, seemingly unconscious. He was oblivious to the two agents in the shadows.

"Richard, I need some help here, she's out,"

The other guard entered and as he did, Illya and Napoleon jumped onto both of them, wrestling their weapons from their grasp and knocking both out cold.

Illya helped the red head to her feet.

"Thank you," she said as she brushed herself down, "well, that worked well."

"Mmm, now we need to find out where we are and what's going on here," Napoleon mused.

"And put a stop to it if possible," Illya added as they passed a room full of explosives, the sight lighting up his face.

He grabbed an armload, more than enough to lay waste to whatever they found.

They rounded a corner and went up a flight of stairs and found themselves in a long corridor, rooms lined either side. they made their way down and carefully peered into some of the rooms, and were amazed at what they saw.

"We need to put a stop to this, but I want to clear the place first. I don't want to hurt any innocents," Napoleon whispered.

"How about that?" Illya indicated a small red box with a clear front mounted on the wall opposite.

"Perfect, how long?" Solo indicated the explosives in Kuryakin's arms.

"Give me about ten minutes."

"Right, I'll see you outside then."

The Russians only reply was a grin.

"So, here we are again, tovarisch," Napoleon said as he pulled up a chair beside Illya's bed, "one day you might actually allow enough time to get away."

"How was I to know that explosive was unstable?"

"Are you sure it was that that was the problem, hmmm?" Solo raised one eyebrow in question.

The room they had been held in was in the basement of a THRUSH school. When they had looked through the window of some of the rooms, they saw they were classrooms.

The charity they thought was being used to smuggle weapons and drugs with, was in fact a front for a school that took in abandoned and orphaned children; teaching them the ways of THRUSH in a similar way to the Figliano* school they had closed down several years ago.

Napoleon had smashed the glass on the red box mounted to the wall and set the fire alarm off, clearing the school, and giving Illya the time needed to set the explosives.

While in the office, Kuryakin had contacted UNCLE HQ Turkey and arranged to have the staff and children collected and taken back to UNCLE, from there the children would be placed into legitimate care and found homes.

The planted explosives had been primed and set, but had gone off early, catching Illya in the blast as he made his getaway.

"How are you feeling now anyway?" Solo asked.

"Like I have two broken ribs, a fractured leg and concussion."

"So you'll be out in no time then," the American smiled.

"Hello Illya, are you feeling any better?" Marianne walked into the room in Turkey UNCLE HQ Medical.

"Yes, I am fine. I am glad you are both unhurt."

The Russian sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Can you pass me my clothes please?"

"Are you sure you should be leaving now?" Napoleon enquired.

"Yes, they released me an hour ago," Kuryakin replied as he pulled on his pants and buttoned up his shirt. "I am ready now, Lets go _dorogaya_."

Marianne took the Russians offered arm and they walked out of the room. Halfway down the corridor Illya stopped and turned towards his friend.

"Oh, please do not wait up for me, I do not intend to return too early," Kuryakin grinned as he placed his arm around Marianne's waist.


End file.
